AESIOR OPHELES
✯ — got spirits in my head and they won't go
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The scent of rot was a familiarity that he knew too well, that echoed through his bones and veins. Once had he worked with the dead, in order to stop their own premature rot. Similar was this scent though it had it's own differences. Quick to appear and fast to fade, his eyes narrowed in curiousity. Caught in his own tasks, would the tabby tom pick up on Vincent's own scent as he traversed the land towards their guest. Huffing a breath as he departed such menial things, paws stretching out over the ground in a long stretch.
The scent had faded but was still noticeable, eagerly capturing his attention. A scent could simply not diminish itself in moments like this one had. Mayhap it was connected to a living, intelligent creature? Shaking his head as he left his stretch, checking his satchel to ensure it remained on his side before trotting after Vincent. The other was one he considered a friendly presence, even a friend, really. Grim following soldier, would he press onwards until he was within range of Vincent.
Gaze turning, the domestic-bodied grim's eyes widened at the sight of their visitor, small blossoms of daffodil and sprigs of tarragon appearing within the fur upon his shoulders. Beautiful and unique the pelt and body that appeared before, beauty pressed by the visage of hunger upon their visitor. Gaze on the golden wings as he came closer, sniffing the air as he tread. It seemed that the scent came from this one, wariness flaring down his spine as he studied the other from a fair distance with a slight ruffle of fur. He couldn't see any wounds - was this maybe a case the same as Lorelei? Maybe this one rotted from within? Exhaling, his nose twitching as he stepped back, circling back to Vincent, standing closer to his groupmate than to Deucalion, still processing the information. Blinking at Deucalion, he quickly licked his fur back into place, unsettled by the questions he had. If Deucalion answered Vincent, he would put forth his own, within the notebook carried in his satchel, his guide to the flowers he grew upon its pages.
Daffodil - I have questions
Tarragon - I'm curious //
The scent had faded but was still noticeable, eagerly capturing his attention. A scent could simply not diminish itself in moments like this one had. Mayhap it was connected to a living, intelligent creature? Shaking his head as he left his stretch, checking his satchel to ensure it remained on his side before trotting after Vincent. The other was one he considered a friendly presence, even a friend, really. Grim following soldier, would he press onwards until he was within range of Vincent.
Gaze turning, the domestic-bodied grim's eyes widened at the sight of their visitor, small blossoms of daffodil and sprigs of tarragon appearing within the fur upon his shoulders. Beautiful and unique the pelt and body that appeared before, beauty pressed by the visage of hunger upon their visitor. Gaze on the golden wings as he came closer, sniffing the air as he tread. It seemed that the scent came from this one, wariness flaring down his spine as he studied the other from a fair distance with a slight ruffle of fur. He couldn't see any wounds - was this maybe a case the same as Lorelei? Maybe this one rotted from within? Exhaling, his nose twitching as he stepped back, circling back to Vincent, standing closer to his groupmate than to Deucalion, still processing the information. Blinking at Deucalion, he quickly licked his fur back into place, unsettled by the questions he had. If Deucalion answered Vincent, he would put forth his own, within the notebook carried in his satchel, his guide to the flowers he grew upon its pages.
Daffodil - I have questions
Tarragon - I'm curious //
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THE FLOWER BURNS